Partings
by Lucretia Skelington
Summary: Sequel to Need. Part 3: Adama's thoughts at his son's funeral. Reviews are greatly apprciated!
1. Chapter 1

_This is a sequel to Need. Since the timeline in Need is not true to the series, I've changed it in Partings. I hope it is closer to canon, but since I've not seen all of season 1, I apologize if it is still not accurate. Adama's thoughts will follow soon. Many thanks for your reviews and your encouraging comments!_

Partings- Caroline

I thought this was what I wanted… what I needed, but now, sitting across the polished, golden Orary wood table from him, with the harshness of the papers spread before us, I can not help but have second thoughts.

I wonder what he's feeling- there _is_ a part of me that still cares.

His eyes are unreadable. He's a very private man, but I've always been able to tell at least a little about how he's feeling- if he's pleased or frustrated. You would think that anger would be the easiest of all emotions to pick up on, but I watch him and cannot tell. Not today. William has hardly looked at me. Instead, he stares silently at the documents. When he does look up, it is a quick glance and nothing more.

I notice he looks very tired- I heard him tell one of the clerks it took him a week of travel to get here- he was in a far away sector, somewhere out near Scorpio, but I'm not certain. It was always difficult to keep up with where he was; I haven't tried to in the past several months.

He needs sleep- there's dark circles around his eyes. I know we gave him little notice, but to refuse the court date would have set the proceedings back another two months. My advisor thought that unwise- it would have given William more time to object.

William, however, never did object. He talked about it when here, several months ago. He said he loved us, he loved me, and he wanted us to be a family. I don't doubt that he does, but he's always said that and nothing ever changed. Nothing. Things will stay the same, I know.

My attorney hands the paper with my signature to the judiciary official who, in turn, places it before William. Ramrod straight in his chair, still in uniform, he doesn't react.

He came alone. No legal advisor, no one.

I think William has always been alone, even during our marriage. It is hard for anyone to get close to William Adama- even his wife.

Six months ago was our twelfth wedding anniversary, and the day I got up my courage; my asking for a divorce could not have been a surprise, really. I don't see how it could have been. Our difficulties started years ago- he had his life in the service…we grew apart…what more is there to say?

But, there is more, I know. I can't simply brush aside my years as his wife with such a trite phrase, yet I can't think of a better way to describe what happened.

William Adama swept me off my feet. He was a handsome Viper pilot who made me feel and laugh as no one else ever had. I was the devoted young fiancé, waiting patiently as the Cylon war dragged on. Then, I waited for him to come home with the other Viper pilots who were lucky enough to return from the far corners of our world to their wives and sweethearts. I had the wedding planned as well as the rest of our lives together. I knew just how our life would be, how I wanted it to be.

I thought he would be just like his fellow pilots. They swaggered and re-lived the glory for a time, then left the service or settled into new assignments on the ground and their lives got back to normal. He did come home to me, eventually, but he came home changed. He was more serious, more cautious. He had been scarred not just outside, but inside.

And unlike the others, William never swaggered. Everyone was celebrating, deservedly, and boasting of how we'd chased the Cylons away to deep space and they would never dare bother us again… He didn't believe any of it.

At first, he would disagree. Few would dare argue with him, but few would take serious note of his words, either. After a while, he'd simply sit and listen, not bothering to object, or he would simply leave. I quickly learned to not bring up the subject of Cylons.

Our wedding was beautiful, the honeymoon more wonderful than I had ever imagined, and when we returned from two weeks at an ocean shore resort, his orders were waiting. His assignment was to the Kear Orbital Complex above Caprica, a new joint military and civilian station.

Living there was not bad, I must admit. One entire ring was a hotel and entertainment development where I found employment in the publicity and advertising department; another ring held shops, restaurants, and a spaceport where I could catch flights back to Caprica. In its center, a garden dome was nearing completion. It was a pleasant assignment and we were happy, I thought.

However, William was not entirely pleased with the arrangements. Having civilians so closely positioned to the military was not sensible, in his opinion. He said it would limit the military's decisions in case of another Cylon attack because the military could not move and act freely for fear of collateral damage. He talked as if the war wasn't over.

We argued about this. Quite frankly, I was sick and tired of the Cylons. They had caused the death of too many friends, had kept us separated far too long, and had instilled themselves as an unwelcome presence in my very home.

I wanted them out of our lives for good. Nevertheless, they were there to stay.

Two years later, a firm on Caprica offered me a job working in advertising design and I accepted. I could have worked from the Complex, but it would have entailed frequent flights planet side. Not everything can be done at a distance over the computer, especially with the limitations on communications between computers that has been enacted. The Cylon War made people paranoid- we were actually going _backwards_ in technology.

Moreover, I missed being on the ground. I told him I'd accepted the offer and was moving back to Caprica City.

William said he was pleased for me, but could not join me- he'd been assigned to a ship on a one-year deep space patrol in the direction the Cylons had retreated. He didn't try to get out of it, and he was willing to go. William was convinced the Cylon danger was just a matter of time. He still is.

I didn't understand his concern over the Cylons then and I don't understand it now. I don't think I ever will.

He told me once that he felt as if he was the only man living who realized just what kind of threat the Cylons still posed to the Twelve Colonies. I've heard all his arguments, all his reasons many, many times, yet I am _not_ of the same opinion. The Cylons are gone. Not once since the fighting ended have they contacted us or responded to our diplomatic gestures. _Not once_. They don't want to engage us on any level.

He disagreed. He said we didn't win, but only put off the fight until another day.

I said he needed to quit looking to the past and get over the war so that we could get on with our lives.

He didn't reply.

Upon his return a year later, William accepted a ground job, albeit a temporary one. Still, he did try his best to do what I wanted of him and for once he was at home and life was how I'd always dreamed. He was overseeing a restructuring of the program to teach new recruits the basics of flight at the Simulations Center. I knew he wasn't as happy as when off-planet, but we were together and when Lee was born…

When Lee was born… To my dying day, the image of "Husker" Adama awkwardly holding his new son then gently kissing him is one I will never, _ever_ forget. The nurse had to ask him three times for the baby; William just stared at his son in awe.

After that, he seemed to settle down. Promoted to captain, he gained command of a Viper training squadron. He was back to flying and was content- he told me so. Zak was born and I was certain that his concern over the Cylon threat was fading. The boys adored him and he loved them more than anything in this world. I have no doubt of that.

Then, the Admiralty started making changes to the Mark IV's design and he objected- the Cylon threat, yet again. He spent more and more time discussing the changes with anyone who would listen. Some did, but not many. He spoke out anyway, even though he was warned it could hurt his career.

He was assigned to a battle group. The assignments off planet became longer and longer, and by the time the boys started school, he was gone for months at a stretch. I honestly don't see how he can bear being on the ship so much. They are so cold and hard and lifeless. He seems to thrive on it, though.

During a family cruise, we visited his ship and I saw him standing steadfast, a pillar of calm among the chaos of the flight deck. It occurred to me that he was more at ease there than at home. I was crushed.

The boys, however, were fascinated.

_Oh, gods, I pray they don't follow their father!_

Then, with his next promotion, the months away became a year…and the year separations came one time too many. He was barely a part of our life and…

…and we simply grew apart.

What he can give us is not enough anymore. It just isn't enough.

So, here we sit, across the narrow table that is years in width.

"Major Adama, do you agree to the terms as set forth in this document?" the official asks, glancing at his chronometer.

The official waits impatiently and I think William is not going to answer.

"Is this what you want, Caroline?" William asks quietly. "Do you feel you and Lee and Zak will be better off without…if we are not…?" His voice is rough and he lifts his gaze to meet mine. I don't think I've ever seen such sadness in his eyes.

"Yes," I hear myself whisper, and he looks away. For a moment, I believe he's going to say something more, but he doesn't.

He grips the stylus tighter then quickly signs his name. The official takes the papers and certifies them. We are divorced.

"If you or the boys _ever_ need…" He doesn't continue.

"Thank you," I answer. The official and my advisor gather their papers and rise to leave.

He's not opposed any of my requests for primary custody or monetary provisions. His first deposit for the boys' care was for more than I had asked and the settlement he agreed to will allow me to buy a house. He has always provided well for us and we've always managed without his being around. I don't see why that would change now. The boys and I will be fine, I know. The truth is, we've not needed him for a long time.

"Are you here long? When do you leave?"

"Not long," he answers, still looking away. "I depart tomorrow, early, to return."

I don't ask where he will be going.

"Are you planning to see the boys before you leave?"

"_Of course_," he answers quickly, lifting his dark eyes to stare at me. I look away, embarrassed that it sounded as if I was implying he would not. He does care for his children. He loves his sons.

I look at my hand, empty of the ring he gave to me on our wedding day. I've not worn it for months, but William still wears his. I wonder why. Will he take it off after he leaves here?

_What is he feeling?_

He was always so closed-hearted about his feelings, I never knew.

"Of course," I agree. I come to my feet. It is time to go.

And, again, there is silence.


	2. Partings William

Partings- William

After a week of breathing hot, stale air in cramped cargo transports across half our known world, and not an hour from touching down at the flight terminal across town, here I am being asked whether I agree to my wife's request for a divorce, whether I agree to not be a part of my family's home and life- to give up all that I hold dear.

_No, of course not!_

_How can anyone agree to such a thing? _

Yet, Caroline does- she wants this- she asked for this! She thinks she and our sons will be better off without me.

_Gods, how that hurts!_

I love her…I love my sons! Living without our being a family is… _unthinkable._

Caroline was what kept me going during the war- the anticipation of our marriage, of having children, our future together. Lee and Zak are the reasons I am fighting so hard against the changes the military wants. My life- what I do- is for _them_. I want to protect them, to make sure their future is safe.

Six months ago, I made sure I was home on leave for our twelfth anniversary. I know I've missed most of our anniversaries, and a majority of birthdays, too, but my schedule…sometimes being away couldn't be helped. I don't think Caroline ever believed it, but it was true.

I took her to her favorite restaurant- or rather, what I thought was her favorite. Seems her tastes had changed since the last time I was home, but I didn't know- she didn't tell me. I hardly heard from her. We ate, shared a bottle of ambrosia, and talked about the boys and their plans for the summer and then… she asked me for a divorce.

I was aware Caroline was unhappy, but, I had hoped we could work things out, that it would never come to the point of dissolving our marriage.

She and I talked all night. I tried to tell her how I feel, but I have never been good at that. It's hard to find the words to express what's in my heart… I tried, as best I could, but it seemed no matter what I said, she heard something different. I wish….I wish I could make her realize how much I love them, how they are my world.

What words can tell another that they are at the center of your heart, that they own your soul- that you cannot simply toss aside years of love and marriage by removing a ring and signing a paper? There are no words to express that adequately, or at least none that I know.

They are still my world and I still wear my ring. In my heart, despite what the papers before me say, we are still a family.

I look away.

I look away from the papers cutting my family from me, giving her custody of my children, who I love more than my own life.

_Visitation_. I will be allowed to _visit_ my children.

_And she thinks they will be better off without me; she thinks this is for the best?_

I force myself to breathe, to draw another breath, thinking, searching…. Is there anything, _anything_ I can say to make her change her mind? Should I again tell her how much I care, how much I want and need-

But, no. The words have been said before. There's nothing else to say. Caroline has decided what she wants and to fight further will simply hurt her and the boys and I do not want that. I never wanted to hurt them.

A thread of panic weaves its way through my heart- _how am I going to live without them? _

I pick up the pen, nearly dropping it, then hold it tightly and sign my name.

The official reaches for it, looks it over.

And, with one last stroke of the pen…

…our marriage is dead.


	3. Goodbye

Partings

Chapter 3: Goodbye

Across from me, Caroline cries.

I want to go to her, hold her and comfort her…but can't. My presence is not welcome.

Lee, his arms around his mother, has hardly looked at me. It makes the pain all the more intense. I feel…I feel as if my heart has shattered into a million pieces…

The priest says the words I've heard too many times before- words I never thought I would hear spoken over my own child. Never.

My son, Zak.

Gone.

Lee leaves his mother and places the medallion of the Fallen Warrior on the casket. He told me he was going to do the honor to Zak, not me.

He said I didn't deserve to.

The Galactica was three days away when the message came. Saul Tigh and I were in a briefing with our flight leaders, discussing the upcoming exercise and inspections. I saw him go pale and look at me. I dismissed the group, but he took me back to my quarters before he would give me the note.

The next few hours were a blur. I gave orders, I know, but they were by reflex. Admiral Nagala arrived shortly afterwards; he would have been notified immediately of a fatal accident involving one of his Vipers. I immediately left in Nagala's commuter ship- it was faster than my own- and I arrived a day after Lee and Lt. Thrace, who accompanied Zak's body back to Caprica. The three of them were stationed together at Picon Base- Lt. Thrace was Zak's flight instructor, Lee was assigned to the Viper squadron.

I immediately went to see Caroline. Lee was there, of course, and I was glad- I didn't want her to be by herself. He said she was too upset and I should leave, that she did not want to see me. I had barely spoken with Lee before he turned and left the room, leaving me alone.

I waited, sitting in the living room of her home- what had been her and my sons' home during the years since our divorce- thinking Lee would return, that he had gone to check on his mother. Caroline would take his death hard- any mother would. Fathers, too. I was trying to be strong; I knew I had to be strong for her and for Lee.

Being in her house always felt odd to me. My sons lived there, the woman I swore my heart to lived there...yet, it was not my home. I felt like an outsider, as if I were trespassing in someone's personal life- my own family's life.

I waited, looking at the pictures of the boys scattered here and there. The pictures I have of them are mostly when they were young, before the divorce. She did not send me any after that, and I saw the boys infrequently as they got older. My time alone with them was usually one or two days at the most, when I was able to take leave and return to Caprica. They had sports and activities that always prevented them from spending much time with me. I understood.

The last few years before they left for college, I saw very little of them. I was on the Galactica by then and our cruises were necessarily long ones for reconnaissance duties. I wrote, called when I could, sent vidmail…I tried to keep in touch, to stay a part of their lives.

Looking back, perhpas my best was not enough- I should have tried harder, made different choices. The boys must have needed more, but I thought we remained fairly close and they knew I loved them, above all. Now, however…

After a while it was evident Lee wasn't going to return, so I left. I assumed Caroline was too upset for him to leave her and spend a few minutes with me. Lee was simply busy taking care of his mother- as he should. We would talk later, I told myself.

At the chapel today, before the funeral, I tried again to speak with Caroline. We've talked little in the past years- only when she was forced to consult with me about a decision or when I called while in port or back at Caprica to see the boys. Even then our short conversations were strained and she seemed uncomfortable.

I've missed her.

I tell myself that we cannot go back, but I can't help but wish…

It may not have been the best time to try to talk with her, but I wanted for her to know I cared, that I shared in her loss. I only wanted the chance to console her.

Lee warned me not to- it would distress her more. He was adamant. I knew he was protective of his mother- she and Lee were always very close- but even so I found his behavior unusual.

I moved to speak with her anyway, but he stepped between us, physically blocking me. He said it would disturb her and I was to stay away.

I didn't understand. I simply wanted to be of comfort…and, in truth, to be comforted in return. I just wanted a moment with her. I asked Lee why.

Lee's rage came as a blow.

He said that because I pushed Zak into joining the military, I was responsible for Zak becoming a pilot, for his being in the Viper that day. He said Zak was trying to earn my approval by joining, but it only got him killed.

He said it as if _I_ had sent Zak to his death.

Lee was distraught and I tried to calm him down, to talk with him, but he would not listen to any of my words. He became more and more upset.

He shouted at me, saying it was my fault- _all my fault_- and that I didn't care. He said I'd never cared about him, or Zak, or their mother, that they were second in my life and always had been.

He said my being there was a stain on his brother's memory and I had no right to stand beside the coffin as a grieving father.

Lee fell silent, glaring at me, then turned away to his mother.

Behind her black veil, Caroline looked away and said nothing. The priest said it was time to begin.

Lee faced me again and stuck out his hand for the Fallen Warrior medallion saying _he_ would do the honor because I didn't deserve to.

I was not going to argue with my son at his brother's funeral.

I gave it to him.

I have to believe that Lee's anger comes from losing his brother and not from any real belief in my being the cause of Zak's death- I _have_ to. The boys were very close, I know, and the accident and Zak's death is extremely difficult for us all, but surely Lee doesn't hold me responsible. _That makes no sense! _He cannot actually believe that.

When time passes and Lee has a chance to….to sort out his emotions, I'm sure he'll realize Zak made his own decisions and that I _do_ care- I care very much and I always have. He must realize that- I cannot allow myself to believe otherwise…I don't know how I could live knowing my son blames me… hates me.

It must be- it _has_ to be that. This accusation must be Lee's grief- it's clouding his judgment, his thoughts. I _have_ to believe this…But even so, his words hurt- they hurt me terribly.

My heart is breaking for both my sons.

The medallion glints in the bright sunlight as he lays it on the coffin's surface.

He steps back.

We salute.

Lee returns to his mother without looking at me. It is as if I do not exist.

By my side stands Lt. Kara Thrace. I'd heard a great deal about her from Zak. He would write often, telling me of his classes, of how excited he was to be in flight training, of the girl he'd met. I knew the surprise he hinted at was to be an announcement of their engagement. I was happy for them- I remembered what it was like to be young and in love…so long ago.

I loved Kara Thrace from the moment I met her and my grief is twofold- with Zak's death, I lost a son and a daughter.

Yesterday, after I left Caroline's house, I spent the afternoon with Lt. Thrace, talking. Kara told me she wants to transfer to a ship, that she doesn't feel she can teach anymore. I've decided to request she be assigned to the Galactica. I don't think she will object. I hope she will not. I would like to have her close by so that I can get to know her.

With all my heart, I wish Zak were alive and laughing at Kara's side. I'd give my life a hundred times over to make it so. A thousand times.

To lose those you love is…

My vision of the coffin and Lee and Caroline begins to waver. I reach for Kara's hand and, in return, feel her press her fingers against mine. I close my eyes and feel dampness on my cheeks.

_Thank the gods Kara did not pull away. Thank the gods someone else understands… _

…_and I'm not alone._


End file.
